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She sits up and looks at me, giving me her full attention.
“I want to give us a chance,” I say, with a deep exhale. “I know he hurt me, but I want to forget all that and just be with him. Even pretend that we never hurt each other and everything bad between us never happened.”
“Why would I judge you for that?”
I shrug. “Because he broke my heart. And you saw firsthand how badly he hurt me. And because it sounds stupidly naive.”
“Yeah, but Ellie. You love him.” She sighs, taking a pause before she carefully collects her words and continues. “I saw him. I talked to him. He didn’t look like someone that tossed you aside without regret. He looked like he was in as much pain as you were.”
Pain. Whenever I think of myself and Rhylan, pain seems to follow. We were never full of brightness or joy or whatever optimistic thoughts most couples get to experience. We came from hardship. Our love doesn’t come easily. We have to work for it. But it’s an effort that’s worthwhile because when it all works out and we somehow make sense, it’s magic.
It’s then I finally understand. Our story, mine and Rhylan’s, isn’t written in the stars where everything is meant to be bright and bountiful. Our story is written in the oceans, where tenderness is laced into the beautiful waves of the dark waters, making our story intricate instead of conventional. Where the ripples map out each word we share, adding to the story that’s still being written. Where every pit of darkness is a place that we learn to pull each other out of so we no longer have to drown.
My weak smile causes Claire to sigh and wrap me in her arms. “Whatever you decide, I’m here to walk you through it.”
I nod, smiling at her with gratitude. “Thanks, Claire.”
FORTY-SIX
RHYLAN
When I wake, it feels cold. Chills cover my body, and I realize it’s because I feel empty. Ellie left in the middle of the night while I had fallen asleep. My clothes are strewn on the floor, and Ellie’s are gone with her. The sudden ache from her absence returns. Having her soft skin wrapped in my arms and the scent of her filling my senses, it was like we had never changed. And then, just as quickly as she was back in my arms, she was gone again.
When I look at my phone, I see a message from her.
I need time.
It isn’t goodbye.
Outside, daybreak is taking over the approaching morning sky, brighter than usual as it normally is after a storm. I can’t sleep, not when the absence of Ellie is so prominent. So I get up and walk outside, sliding the heavy glass doors to the poolside right outside my bedroom. Once settled into a lounge chair, I watch the morning become brighter.
It’s while sitting in the quiet morning air that I realize how much Ellie has changed me. How before, I snuffed out who I really was so that I could be who everyone wanted me to be. Now, knowing what my life could be like with Ellie by my side, purpose seems to course through me. I want so many things for us, changes that I know we deserve. I belong to her, and I don’t feel tethered. I feel free because she would allow me to be who I want to be. She would never hold me back. She would always accept me for who I am. When someone comes along and loves you unconditionally like that, you don’t let them go. You hold them close and cherish every moment with them. You spend the rest of your life with them.
“Good morning.” When I turn around, Charles is standing there, leaning against the wall leading to my backyard.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“I was heading to the gym,” he explains. “I was going to see if you wanted to get an early workout with me.”
I nod. He walks over and sits in the lounge chair next to mine.
“You talked to Ellie, didn’t you?”
I look at him, surprised by his accuracy. “How did you know?”
“I can see it in your face. You don’t look angry. But you look sad as shit.” He smirks.
I sigh, rubbing my hands through my face. “I brought her back here last night, and she left in the middle of the night… while I was sleeping.”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets us both sit in silence, letting me know that he’s here if I want to talk.
“She said she needed time,” I finally say.
“Then she needs time.”
My chest constricts. What if time isn’t enough? What if whatever I give her, whether it’s the moon or the stars, it’s never going to be enough to bring her back to me?
“I love her.”
